Mal dé Foi
by AznAnimeGrl2649
Summary: .:DMHG:. As a healer, Hermione Granger finds herself with an unlikely patient, Draco Malfoy. Set in the aftermath of war, she has no choice but to take him home with her.
1. A Dragon's Bad Faith

**A/N:** The title of this story translates to "lost of faith' in French, as we all know because we are huge fans of the one and only Draco Malfoy. First, I would like to say thank you for those of you who supported me on my first Draco/Hermione pairing. Although I usually got the 'it's too repetitive' and the 'it's too boring' responses from the reviews, I really did appreciate the ones who took the time to look beyond the one liners and figured out what the story really means. Well, this is my second attempt to write about this pairing. It's more toned down and light, and close to the usual format you all are every so familiar with, so I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

**Started:** July 26, 2006

**Draft Finished:** July 26, 2006

**Fiction:** Two part One-Shot

**Rated:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** The character and names of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. The poem in this chapter is by an artist named Chaos and the poem, Metamorphosis, 2nd Stage rightfully belongs to Chaos from the site **Amber's Dragon Lair**. The plot belongs to me.

**Book:** Harry Potter

**Pairings:** Slight DMHG

**Genre:** Angst/Humor

**Summary:** _"I've learned in the past that you should never try to wake up a sleeping dragon. Those who attempt to do such a foolish thing will find themselves unable to live and regret it." _As a Healer, Hermione Granger is assigned to help out a patient who resides in the mental institute ward of St. Mungo's Hospital. Prepared and looking forward to conduct her duty as Healer, her world came to a crashing halt when she finds out that her patient is Draco Malfoy. With the best of her knowledge, she helps him in any way she can, whether he wants it or not.

Mal de Foi

A Dragon's Bad Faith

Part One

_Every night, just before I sleep,  
I wrap myself up like a cocoon,  
In blankets and in darkness,  
So that I may change come next morning_

A pair of wings, a long shining tail,  
A new body to replace the old,  
To change my everyday routine life,  
And my narrow point of view

Yet, everyday I wake unchanged,  
But I still hope that same night,  
And I try yet again, for you never know,

_Unless you try._

* * *

White.

The walls were white, pure fucking white like a beam of moonlight descending down to uncover my sins. Sins that I've committed. Sins that I've inflicted upon others. Sins that I am yet to redeem for an eternity in hell.

In many beliefs, there is a total of seven sins.

_Acedia_: Sloth

_Avaritia_: Greed.

_Gula_: Gluttony.

_Invidia_: Envy.

_Ira_: Wrath.

_Luxuria_: Lust.

And _superbia_: Pride.

But despite what anyone thinks, humanity's first sin was **faith**. Humanity believed that faith was the first and most important thing in existence. Faith in life, faith in death, faith in good will, faith in a god, a supreme being to look up to.

But what do I have faith in? Absolutely nothing.

Faith to me is a load of bullshit. Faith to me is a curse. Faith to me is a curse that has been passed down from my ancestors and now it resides within me.

It is ironic.

For centuries, the Malfoy name was one of the most powerful families in the wizarding world, and now it was nothing more than a curse.

I am cursed.

It is ironic.

For the longest time, dragons are known to be noble creatures. Fearless, strong, and full of wisdom, and yet I have none of those qualities.

I am not brave.

I am not strong.

And the only piece of wisdom I hold is lost in the back of my mind.

I am not a dragon, yet my name tells another story.

Sitting in this empty room, I stared at the white wall, knowing that I have no other place to go. There are no other options, but two: either live or die. I did not want to die.

I am trapped in a prison with only my sanity to keep me alive.

I did not want to die.

* * *

Freedom.

In my world, freedom has a price. It cannot be given, it cannot be gained, it cannot appear out of thin air. Freedom was not like magic.

Freedom means that certain boundaries are broken. Freedom means that rules are set. Freedom means that forces will be in control. Freedom is not free.

If one door opens, should we venture through it to see what lies within it?

If one door closes, will there be a chance that another will open?

I believe that if there is an opportune moment, take it and never look back. It might just be your last.

I wanted to be freed from my prison. Freed from my insanity. And when I saw the opportunity, I took it.

* * *

"Malfoy," she whispers, holding her hand out like an offer. Dressed in a champagne silk blouse and a knee length skirt, Granger stood over me with her amber eyes filled with determination. It has been five years. Five years since I've seen her pathetic face. Five years since the war have ended. Five years since anyone has ever uttered my surname softly and not in malice. I looked up and saw her hand lingering in the air, waiting for me to accept it. This was a chance given to me. This was a chance just for me. This was a chance to live and be freed from my prison. With my hands grasped in hers, I knew I was getting my freedom, but I paid no mind to the price. Whatever the price was, is only a small price to pay for my sanity.

I stood up and was pulled out to the world, my world. A world full of magic and creatures of every kind. Granger held onto my arm like the giant squid in the lake until we reached to her flat. Her very _small _flat. I coud probably walk from one end of her flat to the other in less than ten seconds.

'Doing some light reading, Granger,' I asked sarcastically in my mind as I took a seat on her couch, if you can even call it a couch. Just like the bookworm she is, books were piled every where. On the tables, on the telly, on the floor, and sticking out of bookshelves. How can anyone live in here? Oh, wait, she could. The female of the Golden Trio didn't answer me and went to the kitchen. When she returned, she had a pair of scissors in hand along with a white tablecloth. Oh Merlin, she was going to give me a haircut. I would rather tear my hair out. Apparently, she could not read my mind.

"You need a haircut, Malfoy," she said, pulling me to the kitchen chair, which was quite a small distance. A snip here and a comb there, Granger handed me the mirror to examine her handy-work. For bloody sakes, she's a witch! Why won't she just use magic? I took a glance at the reflecting glass and looked at myself. I took one hard look and tossed the mirror back to her. I did not want to see myself, not just yet.

* * *

She must have thought I've stayed in that mental ward for eternity because somehow Granger is convinced that I was really insane, that or mentally stupid. She wouldn't let me touch any sharp objects; probably thought I would stab her or something. She wouldn't let me pour my own cuppa; afraid that I might burn myself, perhaps. She wouldn't even let me write a bleeding letter! I'm not bloody illiterate! At least she let me have my own privacy.

We spent days in her flat. Granger would ask me questions, probably questioning my sanity. She asked me what my full name was, where I went to school, who were my parents, what was my favorite colour, what was my favorite food, what are my dislikes, and what is my favorite book. I could have answered her, but I didn't. I kept my mouth shut.

This went on day after day. Each day she would ask me those questions, again and again, and I still would not answer her. Then, one day, she gave up. She didn't ask those questions anymore. Instead, she would do her daily routine without asking those pestering questions. I didn't complain. But what I didn't expect is that she would pencil me into her routine too.

Every morning, she would wake up early, make coffee and pour a cup for me and herself. She obviously did not believe in the importance of breakfast, but made an effort to make some decent oatmeal. Then, we would go to her office at St. Mungo's Hospital and start 'communicating' as she puts it. But during that time, she doesn't ask questions. During that time, she talks freely, sprouting gibberish and nonsense about what was going on around the world today. She would mumble medical information, incantations, potion lists, and various herbs like a real Healer. And I would sit there in her office, listening to her. Imagine, I, Draco Malfoy was listening to the bookworm Granger. Who would have thought? But I did.

* * *

I think I turned into a mute. At least I wasn't incapable of physical activities. I can walk, I can run, I can eat, but I can never speak. I can't even scream. Once, I saw Granger dressed in the most hideous outfit. I think she called them "bell-bottoms". It was more like flower trousers from hell. She looked like some deranged nymph for Merlin's sakes. I wanted to give some piece of 'advice' on her wardrobe, but nothing slipped through my lips, not even a laugh. And that's how I found out that I, Draco Malfoy was a mute.

Not talking had its perks. Even if I couldn't speak, I learned to speak with my eyes. Granger, being as thick as the Weasel, misinterprets what I mean most of the time, either that or she needs to get her eyes checked. You see, cooking is not one of Granger's strong points. She may be smart, I'll give her that, but she is a bloody terrible cook. I rather eat dirt than her bleeding food, if you can call it that. Usually, I would just make myself a sandwich, but she insists on cooking. She asks me what I think, and being unable to talk, I glared at her, hard. Yet, the stupid witch does not get the message. Merlin, I am surrounded by idiots! And almost every night since I've stayed here, my stomach yearns for a pain remedy, any bloody remedy.

* * *

I cursed my luck because I am a jinx. In ancient times, curses were cast on those who have committed wrong things, but they can also be a blessing. Curses were a type of justice, in a way. But what is more important, curses were known because of their properties of carrying down from generation to generation. Curses were powerful and deadly like a slow poison.

As if following Granger around the hospital while she was conducting her Healer duties were not bad enough, she actually expects me to help her. I did well for the most part, until I met those bloody kids from the children's ward. Little buggers they are.

Every time I go see them, at least half of them would cry. What the bloody hell was I doing wrong? They were just a bunch of spoiled brats out to get me. It's not like I was stealing their chocolate frogs when they were not looking. Well, all right, I confess. I did 'borrow' some, but they didn't have to throw a tantrum. Little buggers. If I had my wand, they all would be transfigured into little rats for all I care. At least they would be useful for experiments.

* * *

It was quiet.

I can hear the owls hoot, crickets chirp, and my own slow breathing.

Tranquility is the center of life. Everyone craves it, yet they do not have it. And without it, there is no balance in the world.

Good and evil.

Life and death.

Constructive and destructive.

Light and dark.

Ying and yang.

Balance is the basis of life, knowing that there are two parts to a whole, and that one cannot survive without the other.

Buddha said that life is full of suffering.

I had my share of sufferings. I had my share of life, but life cannot be eternal.

As I gazed out into the night sky, I searched for a certain constellation, the dragon of that sky, Draco.

It is ironic that it resembles more to a snake than a dragon.

From Granger's window, I knew something was coming together like a jigsaw puzzle with all of its pieces being arranged accordingly.

I know I may be am cursed.

That I am may be free.

But I also know who I am.

And all the sufferings I've endured are the proof of my existence.

I am just a dragon with a bad faith.

Nothing more, nothing less.

I am Draco Malfoy.

And I learned to accept it.

Even if I am cursed for eternity.

* * *

**A/N:** How did you like it? This is the first part of the one-shot. The next one is from Hermione's prospective. I know, it's quite loose and full of sarcasm, but who doesn't like sarcasm? Obviously, I have a huge sense of humour. Hope it's not contagious. Anyway, if you would like for me to continue, say the word! Please excuse my grammar and spelling mistakes. Review with any thoughts you might have about my writing. Constructive criticism is welcomed as long as it's in an intelligent manner.

* * *

Thank you for reading!


	2. Fidelis Procul Viscus

**A/N:** The title of this chapter translates to 'Faithful at Heart' in Latin.

* * *

Thank you to:

**Slink-and-the-BloddyWands**

**Meaghan3927**

**Jane H.A.S. Doe**

* * *

**Started:** July 26, 2006

**Draft Finished:** July 26, 2006

**Fiction:** Two part One-Shot

**Rated:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** The character and names of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. The poem in this chapter is by an artist named Amber Vinz and the poem, Dragon Eye rightfully belongs to Amber Vinz from the site **Amber's Dragon Lair**. The plot belongs to me.

**Book:** Harry Potter

**Pairings:** Slight DMHG

**Genre:** Angst/Humor

**Summary:** _"I've learned in the past that you should never try to wake up a sleeping dragon. Those who attempt to do such a foolish thing will find themselves unable to live and regret it." _As a Healer, Hermione Granger is assigned to help out a patient who resides in the mental institute ward of St. Mungo's Hospital. Prepared and looking forward to conduct her duty as Healer, her world came to a crashing halt when she finds out that her patient is Draco Malfoy. With the best of her knowledge, she helps him in any way she can, whether he wants it or not.

Mal de Foi

-

Fidelis Procul Viscus

-

Part Two

-

_Dragons are crafty, wicked and wise,  
You can tell just by looking into thier eyes,  
If you see a burning red flame,  
It can only mean they're betroth in giving pain,  
If their eyes sparkle and glimmer of the lightest of blue,  
You best be careful what you do,  
If your words are truthful and faithful at heart,  
You have no need to worry, they won't tear you apart,  
But if your words are unlawful and hate is in your eyes,  
They will only bring you to your demise._

* * *

The human heart is a fragile thing. It is the center of life, the center of our emotions, and the center of our existence, but it can break ever so easily.

In ancient times, the Egyptians long believed that the heart was useless. The value of it back then practically weighs as much as a feather. Being one of the first civilization since the beginning of time, the Egyptians were brilliant doctors. Even though they did not know much of the heart and considered it useless, they have created tonics that can cure the heart of many disorders.

Through time, the heart was considered more than just an organ among mortals.

The heart became a symbol of human emotions.

-----

When I looked through the files that were piled on my desk, I didn't expect to see _his_ name among them. I actually pinched myself just to see if I was dreaming. Apparently, I am still wide awake. I flipped through his file and skimmed through the information given. There was not much to comprehend except for that fact that he is in the mental institute part of St. Mungo's Hospital. I raked my brain to figure out how he could have ended in there. I came up with two conclusions: either Malfoy has gone mental due to trauma, or that he is an excellent actor who has been fooling the hospital that he is insane for five years. With one last look on the information, I got up from my chair and began pacing toward my next assignment.

I've always liked a challenge, and this is no different from the others.

* * *

Health.

Being healthy insures you that you are prolonging death, nothing more. Alchemists in the middle ages all attempted to stop death by trying to create a Philosopher's Stone. By drinking the elixir made from the stone, it would make one immortal. Many attempts were made, but those who have searched for it either went mad or died in the process for eternal life.

Often, the Philosopher's Stone is described to be in a shade of the deepest red.

The deepest red that resembles blood.

Human blood.

----

I've learned in the past that you should never try to wake up a sleeping dragon. Those who attempt to do such a foolish thing will find themselves unable to live and regret it.

When I arrived at the entrance of the room Malfoy was confided in, I hesitated. Who will I truly see in there? Will it be the Draco Malfoy who has served the dark side, or will he be someone else? Even though I had no idea who I was going to deal with, I decided to take the chance. There is no use in trying to uncover the past when it is the present I should be focusing on. Reminding myself that I am on this side of the door and that he was currently on the other, the least I can do is make an effort and offer him help. If he didn't want it, then it was fine with me.

I took a deep breath and opened the heavy door after a flick of my wand. And when I looked inside, I saw him sitting in the far corner with his long hair concealing the majority of his pale face.

Seeing him like that made me remember the reason why I wanted to become a Healer in the first place. Head bowed down, he looked feeble and hardly recognizable. If anyone from Hogwarts came waltzing in here, they would not even guess that the patient is the spoiled Slytherin git. I for one, am now a believer.

Reminding myself that I have a job to do, I went up to him and held out my hand. I wanted to offer my help, but if he did not need it, there is no reason why I should be here.

"Malfoy," I whispered, trying to get his attention. Gray eyes flickered from the ground to my outreached hand. At least now I know he's alive and not empty inside. He looked at my hand for the longest time, probably debating if he should take it or not. I bet he could not even recognize me. I prayed that he didn't, but the next thing I knew, he took my hand and that was all I needed.

* * *

Forgiveness can be the hardest thing to grant. It is different from pity. It is different from remorse. And it is different from regret. But they all have a similarity, they have characteristics that can be described as sympathy.

Forgiveness is like giving a second chance.

A chance to redeem oneself.

A chance to change.

And a chance to live again without guilt.

Some say that forgiveness is a stepping stone towards being a human, but so is mercy.

----

The first thing I gave Malfoy when we arrived at my flat was a haircut. Merlin knows he needs one. After instructing him to sit down, I did the best I could to give him a reasonable look. When I gave him a mirror to look at, he immediately gave it back to me like it was on fire. I guess I was not meant to be a barber.

Familiar with Malfoy's situation, I made sure that he is not to be harmed in any way. I cooked all the meals, poured all the hot liquid, and kept sharp objects like knives away from him. Then, when he was settled in, I began my work.

I always kept a journal on hand when I was asking him questions, but there was no progress because he would not say a word. I tried again and again, and yet, I got nothing. This went on for days when I decided to do a different approach. Instead of keeping him on house arrest, I brought him with me to work. That worked out terribly. Being in the office alone with him made me a little nervous. I did not know what was going on in that mind of his and was afraid that he would snap at some point and remember who he is. To my relief (and some disappointment), he behaved himself, until he met the youths in the children's ward.

At first, I did not know who I should be more sorry for: the children or Malfoy. Sure, he was 'connecting' with the children, but he would always end up making most of them cry. Every time I see him there with the children, he would always have that famous Malfoy scowl on his face. This went on for a few days and on the last day, he finally cracked and gave a smirk. Maybe it was his presence or aura, but nonetheless, he worked well with the children, give or take a few.

I know that I am not a great cook, but I can mange the simple things like fry eggs, make toast, boil pasta, and cook rice. My mother is a great cook, but I guess I did not inherit any culinary skills from her. Despite that, whatever I placed in front of Malfoy, he would eat it. He did not complain, and I respect him for that, and yet, sometimes I have a feeling that he is staring daggers behind my back when I accidently left things on the stove for too long. Either I was being paranoid or that he did not like my cooking very well. I guess that's why I always eat out.

* * *

In Greek mythology, Zeus created the first woman to punish men. Her name was Pandora and she was given a box, in which she was forbidden to open. Like any living being, her curiosity got the best of her and she opened the box. When she lifted the lid, out came plagues, death, misery, and mischief. Afraid of the dark bat-like creatures flying around her, Pandora quickly closed the lid, sealing hope within it. And just like that, hope, the fighting chance against the evils around us, was lost.

----

I did not give up hope on Malfoy's recovery. He may turn back to his normal self, or he may not, but it was not my choice to decide. It was his. Somehow, my hope was answered.

It was a starry night and Malfoy would sit next to the window like he did every other night, staring up into the sky like there was something he could see that others could not. He would sit there for countless hours, deep in thought and I would sit there and watch him. His features seem to be heightened in moonlight. Even in the dark, I can see why females will always give him a second a look. I examined him for so long, I didn't realize that he was staring right back at me. I gave him a small smile and he returned it with a trademark smirk. I could have sworn there was a tiny glint in his eye.

Maybe it was my lack of sleep that has caught up to me, but I ignored it and went to prepare for bed. After hearing rustling sheets from the room beside me, I closed my eyes and rested. After all, tomorrow is another day. And in my heart, I was faithful that Malfoy will find himself, some day.

Because I know in my heart that hope is not lost. It has always been inside us.

Waiting for the opportune moment.

* * *

**A/N:** Well, the end. What did you think about it? I had some fun writing this, piecing the knowledge I've learned about human life and mythology through my years of learning. There is not much angst and humor in this chapter, but oh well. I would really like some thoughts you have about this story, so please excuse my grammar and review with suggestions, comments, and questions. Constructive criticism is welcomed as long as it's in an intelligent manner.

* * *

Thank you for reading!


End file.
